Wrinkles in Time
by lionesseyes13
Summary: Drabbles on the Master and Padawan relationships between Qui-Gon and Dooku, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan and Anakin, and Anakin and Ahoska showing how much and how little changes over the course of generations. Every chapter should contain four drabbles.
1. Chapter 1

Dislcaimer: I own nothing, isn't that pathetic?

Author's Note: This is short, and I'm not entirely sure I like it, but if other people do, I think I will continue to write drabbles like this. If not, we'll forget I ever had this foray into the human psyche.

Color

**Dooku and Qui-Gon**: Color. When it came down to it, a Jedi's life lacked it. Their robes were drab, and their rooms were sparsely decorated in plain hues. In their own fashions, both Dooku and Qui-Gon rebelled against the colorlessness. Qui-Gon's methods were more overt, involving an excessive amount of time in the Temple gardens and becoming friends with a host of unsavory characters for whom the adjective colorful was the kindest word that could be employed. On the other hand, Dooku's methods were more subtle, for he often volunteered for undercover and diplomatic missions that allowed him to don the vivid aristocratic attire that would have been his to wear all the time if the Jedi hadn't taken him when he was a mere infant. Many times over the years, Dooku would mock Qui-Gon for his bizarre, sentimental behavior, but when Qui-Gon was killed on Naboo, he couldn't help but mourn for the disappearance of so much color from the Jedi and the galaxy.

**Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan:** Color. Over the course of Obi-Wan's apprenticeship to him, Qui-Gon often reflected that it was the stumbling block in their relationship. After all, their relationship would have been immeasurably less complicated if Obi-Wan didn't have piercing blue eyes like Xanatos'. Their relationship could only truly grow when Qui-Gon was able to gaze into Obi-Wan's eyes without seeing Xanatos' ghost. Once he could do that, he could understand that Obi-Wan's eyes really weren't like Xanatos', after all. While Xanatos' eyes had always blazed like the hottest, deadliest part of a flame, Obi-Wan's eyes were like water. Xanatos' eyes had always brimmed with a passion that could inflame others, but had also ultimately consumed him, whereas Obi-Wan's eyes were typically tranquil, although they gleamed when he was provoked to strong emotion, and contained hidden depths that few people could penetrate or understand. By the end of their relationship, Qui-Gon was pleased and proud to count himself as one of the handful of beings who could say that they had charted the depths of Obi-Wan's surprisingly colorful soul.

**Obi-Wan and Anakin**: Obi-Wan knew he wasn't what anyone would call a colorful personality. There was nothing about him that made him stand out in a room full of people, and that was how he liked it, because if he went unnoticed, then he couldn't embarrass himself. He was too bland to excite passions in others, for nobody was stirred to violent antipathies or instant devotion upon meeting him. As such, most of the color in his relationship came from Anakin, who was nothing if not a vibrant personality. Unlike Obi-Wan, Anakin thrived on attention and had a flair for the dramatic. Anakin was the one who pushed the rules nearly to the breaking point on a regular basis, the one who spontaneously built and repaired droids, the one who flew in the most dangerous manner possible whenever the occasion arose, and the one who had no problem eliciting strong, immediate reactions from others, since he enjoyed reaching quick judgments about others. That was why when Obi-Wan pictured himself as a color, he saw himself as a common, inoffensive, and ultimately solid plaster white, while, when he envisioned Anakin as a color, he thought of Anakin as a blazing, dynamic azure like his lightsaber blade.

**Anakin and Ahoska**: When Anakin first met Ahoska, his overwhelming impression was of color. During the course of the Clone Wars, he had become accustomed to looking at the human faces of the clones and his Master, or the white armor of the clones, so seeing a Togruta on Christophsis seemed like a full sensory assault. This impression was only enhanced when she opened her mouth and revealed that she a snippy tongue. At first, he wasn't at all pleased to have such a colorful Padawan, but once he saw how her unique visuospatial abilities had saved him during battle on Christophsis, he understood that their bright colors did not have to clash, but could offset each other well.


	2. Chapter 2

Haunted

**Dooku and Qui-Gon**: Ever since he was a youngling small enough for Yoda to tap on the head, Qui-Gon, like every other Jedi initiate, had looked forward to being selected as a Padawan. Most Jedi students longed to be chosen because they did not want to be shunted off to the Agri Corps, but Qui-Gon had always wanted to be picked because the Living Force that whispered to him as it did to no one else caused him to crave a deep bond with someone who wasn't a year mate. He thought that the Master-Padawan relationship would fulfill his need for a connection with another being, and when Dooku asked for him to be his apprentice when he was only eleven, Qui-Gon had been thrilled. Over the coming months, he was to face a long succession of crushing disappointments as he slowly learned the painful lesson that Dooku was a cold, demanding master, who had no real interest in forming a bond with his apprentice. To him, their relationship would never be anything more than a teacher-student one, and in it, Qui-Gon would forever fall short of his Master's expectations. Qui-Gon knew that his unsatisfactory relationship with his Master haunted him and caused him to form deep attachments to his own apprentices, but it was only shortly before he left for Naboo that it occurred to Qui-Gon that maybe Dooku was haunted as well. Perhaps Dooku had even higher expectations of himself than he did of others, and maybe he was determined to destroy himself because he could never live up to them. Maybe the worst ghosts were the ones inside you that showed you just how much you fell short of what you could and should be.

**Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan**: Xanatos might have killed himself in a toxic pool on his homeplanet of Telos, but his memory refused to die. Obi-Wan knew that Xanatos' fate haunted Qui-Gon. Moreover, he could sense the battle that constantly raged within Qui-Gon to separate Obi-Wan and Xanatos in his mind and in his heart. Sometimes, he would see a shadow flit over his Master's keen eyes, and he would know that the man was wondering how he would fail Obi-Wan or how Obi-Wan would fail him. Obi-Wan understood that it was the ghost of Xanatos that planted the doubts, and he would think that while Xanatos was dead, he was refusing to let anyone else rest in peace.

**Obi-Wan and Anakin**: From the start, Anakin knew that his relationship with Obi-Wan was wound up with the death. After all, if Qui-Gon hadn't died and Obi-Wan hadn't promised him that he would train Anakin, they would never have ended up as Master and apprentice. What Anakin hadn't considered was the impact that the dead would continue to have on their relationship. He hadn't foreseen all the curtains that would fall over Obi-Wan's eyes whenever he thought about Qui-Gon, and he had not contemplated the pangs of resentment that Obi-Wan wasn't Qui-Gon that would stab him like knives over the years. Similarly, it never occurred to him that Shimi would die, and he would be left dealing with the knowledge that he had failed to save her, just like Obi-Wan had failed to rescue Qui-Gon. He had never imagined that he would have to go on living with the fear that he would prove to be a disappointment to her, just as Obi-Wan went through life wondering if he was a disappointment to Qui-Gon. Oh, Anakin had no doubt that ghosts haunted his relationship with Obi-Wan, but he didn't think it was because the dead refused to relinquish their grip on the living. No, he thought it was the living who refused to surrender their hold on the dead.

**Anakin and Ashoka**: It didn't take long for Ashoka to discover that despite all of his impetuousness and irreverence, her Master was a haunted man. Most of the time, his eyes were filled with a wild courage, but sometimes, when he thought no one was looking, they would take on a more vulnerable sheen, as though he was remembering comrades that he had lost in battle. He could laugh as he performed stunts in a cockpit that would have resulted in an instant, fiery death for a less skilled and equally suicidal pilot, and he could grin as he confronted legions of lethal battle droids, and it would seem that he didn't fear death in the slightest. Ashoka thought that he did fear death, though, but not in the way that most sentients did. Most beings were terrified by the idea of their own death, but that didn't seem to faze Anakin. What seemed to haunt him were the ghosts of dead loved ones and the knowledge that those he cared about now could be snatched from him at any moment. Ashoka Tano knew that her Master, the Hero with No Fear, feared death—not his own demise, but the ends of those he cared about. He could handle the idea of himself dying, but not the notion of the deaths of those he loved. Maybe Ashoka should have felt betrayed by the fact that the Hero with No Fear was afraid of something as incorporeal as death, and perhaps she should have felt angered that her training had been entrusted to a Jedi who could not accept death, but she didn't. The fact that her Master was so haunted by death made him seem more real and more sentient to her.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Yes, these topics are so random. I don't even know how I come up with them, and I am the one who typed this up…Oh, well, life is made up of seemingly insignificant matters, and I guess that this fic reflects that aspect of the human experience.

Food

**Dooku and Qui-Gon**: Ever since he was a young Jedi student, Dooku had believed that one could discern much about a sentient based solely upon what he or she consumed. That was one of the reasons why he enjoyed attending refined, aristocratic cocktail parties whenever he was dispatched on a diplomatic mission. He relished the opportunity to sip the fine wines and eat the delicacies that he would have eaten all the time if he hadn't been Force sensitive. At cocktail parties like that, he was able to remind everyone that he came from noble stock, and that his genes made him superior in more ways than just giving him a deeper connection to the Force than most Jedi would ever manage. For reasons Dooku would never understand, Qui-Gon had never embraced cocktail parties as much as Dooku did. Indeed, Qui-Gon spent most cocktail parties with a twinkle in his eyes that suggested that it would never cease to amuse and mystify him that sentients with so much money would squander so much of it on haki snails that didn't even taste good. Qui-Gon preferred a simple meal in a poor farmer's home or a fat laden meal at a cantina to any banquet. Dooku liked associating with the high class, and Qui-Gon preferred the common masses. Dooku didn't understand what Qui-Gon saw in the dregs of society, but he eventually learned that it was something innate in his Padawan and something that could not be altered even by as stubborn a man as Dooku. When it came down to it, nobody could really dictate the tastes of another.

**Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan**: When Obi-Wan started his apprenticeship to Qui-Gon, he had been just starting that phase of rapid adolescent growth when boys could never get enough to eat even if they lived in a kitchen. He had loved virtually any and all food that he came into contact with. Once he had matured and his body finally stopped growing what seemed to be a foot a day, his relationship with food seemed to change. He no longer craved it and seemed to perceive it as just another means of fulfilling an objective that could be subjected to his dry wit as much as anything else. Sometimes, it seemed to Qui-Gon that Obi-Wan's attitude toward food had changed overnight, because, even though he had been beside his Padawan every day while the transformation occurred, he still had no idea how it had happened. That was what made it so simultaneously awful and wonderful.

**Obi-Wan and Anakin**: When Anakin had first become Obi-Wan's apprentice, Obi-Wan had taken him to see the museums and statues that Coruscant was famous for, and afterwards they would eat at one of what seemed like millions of different ethnic restaurants that managed to stay in business on this cosmopolitan planet. Now that the two of them were trapped in the Clone Wars living off the hard ration bars that tended to be the GAR's idea of food, he found himself recalling those times wistfully and promising himself that when this war was over, he and Anakin would visit Dex's Diner and eat a deliciously non-healthy meal together. It might have appeared to everyone else to be a stupid motivator, but it was enough to sustain him, and that was all that mattered. After all, it was often the littlest things that made the most difference, and it was really grand ideals that inspired people on a day-to-day basis. That's why even clones like Cody who were raised from the moment they were decanted to be perfect soldiers admitted that they didn't truly think of the glory of the Republic in the heat of battle but of keeping their brothers alive.

**Anakin and Ashoka**: Food. On the surface of it, it seemed like a ridiculous thing for any relationship to depend on, but many relationships were built around it. Sentients all over the galaxy relied on meal times to get together and talk about the minor triumphs and defeats of the day. Sharing food was a silly little ritual that bound beings together. It tied him and Obi-Wan as they jokingly competed to see who could come up with the most insulting description for the ration bars, and even during the rockiest patches in their relationship before the battle of Geonosis had forever altered the galaxy, they could always rely on a good or lame food joke to ease the tension between them. It didn't take Anakin long to figure out that food would never be a source of unity in his relationship with Ashoka, but a point of division. Ashoka wasn't a human. She was a predator, and she was prone to looking longingly at lizards and rodents that crossed her path as though she wanted nothing more than to hunt and devour them. Anakin knew that it was simply the way of her species and that it shouldn't have unsettled him since at their core humans were omnivorous, but he couldn't help but feel disconcerted whenever he saw her slip into her predator mode. When she was in her predator mode, he realized anew just how different and alien she was from him, and then he would start to wonder if every time he drew on the Force other Jedi could only see the freakish Chosen One showing just how abnormal he was even by the Jedi's standards. That was a trail of thought he was never comfortable exploring. He didn't want to see himself as the lone alien among humans with a Master who was faintly unnerved himself desperately trying to explain his oddities to the rest of the puzzled and frightened humans.


	4. Chapter 4

Healing

Dooku and Qui-Gon: As a Jedi, Dooku had been interested in cultivating many powers, but healing had never been among them. He told himself that it was because he had little desire to be a healer. He thought that it was a practice taken up by the Jedi with the weakest power, and he refused to entertain the notion that he felt that way because he had little aptitude for it. He had no real compassion for beings who moaned and cried when injured, because he couldn't suppress that voice inside him that hissed that these individuals were weak and so deserved to suffer. His lack of interest in healing meant that he had few of the traditional healing arts to pass along to Qui-Gon, which, he supposed, was probably a pity for the weak who needed healing. After all, Qui-Gon had far more compassion for the weak than Dooku ever would.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan: Qui-Gon never considered himself to be one of the Temple's finest healers. Sometimes he felt badly about this, since he felt that it was a Jedi's job to serve and heal others, but most of the time he could reconcile his mediocre mastery of the healing arts by reminding himself that not all wounds were physical and sometimes the most painful ones were invisible to the outside world. He could devote himself to healing those. Still, given his distinctly average grasp of the healing arts, he was grateful that Obi-Wan, unlike his friend Bant, was not obsessed with the healing arts. In fact, he seemed to have a stubborn aversion to medical centers in general. Yet, despite that, Qui-Gon was convinced that Obi-Wan was a better healer than he would ever know. After all, Obi-Wan had healed many of the wounds left by Xanatos' betrayal. Maybe Obi-Wan's healing was made all the better by the fact that he seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he was healing someone at all.

Obi-Wan and Anakin: Obi-Wan had always known he was no healer. Part of his problem was that he didn't like healing wards in general. The strong smells that always filled the air in what felt like an attempt to sterilize everything made his eyes sting, his nose tingle, and his stomach curl up in protest. The ridiculous gowns that patients were forced to wear made him think of the clause prohibiting cruel and unusual punishment in the Republic's Constitution. As for the food, it was generally so awful and nausea inducing that it made dishes like tree bark frittata sound appetizing. On a level beyond the superficial, he felt that he lacked the ease with emotions that seemed essential for a healer, and that his bedside manner was nothing to rave about. After Geonosis, he tried to be the best healer he could be by helping Anakin come to terms with the dual blow of losing his arm and his mother. Seeing how his best efforts continually fell short of what was needed, he knew that he had been right when he had concluded that he was useless as a healer, since if he couldn't heal his best friend and his Padawan, then he couldn't heal anyone else.

Anakin and Ashoka: Anakin hated visiting the rimsoos that were set up during every campaign in the Clone Wars. He hated how much they shoved under his nose the stark lie of the Jedi belief that he had been taught and that he was expected to teach his own apprentice about there being no death and only the Force. That was a doctrine that it was impossible to accept when he was up to his wrists in someone else's blood or when a soldier had just breathed his last on the cot in front of him. He knew all too well that death was real, and that it snatched everybody eventually, no matter what comforting platitudes the Jedi created about the Force. Moreover, he knew that if there was only the Force, not death, he would be able to heal those assembled in the rimsoos, rather than basically work with the medics to attempt to make the clones' deaths less agonizing. No, death, and not the Force, must rule the universe, because if it were otherwise, the Chosen One would have been a healer and not a killer, his birth would have ushered in a period of galactic peace rather than a time of war, and he would have been able to bring order rather than chaos to his surroundings. He was the Chosen One, and he wasn't good enough. He just hoped that his Padawan never realized that.


	5. Chapter 5

Equality

Dooku and Qui-Gon: It was the dream of every apprentice to one day become their Master's equal, Qui-Gon knew. It was that longing to one day be as good as their teacher that motivated the Padawans to practice with their lightsabers even when their hands were covered with callouses and to read their datapads late into the night, absorbing facts while their eyelids itched to shut. Yet, somehow, Qui-Gon realized that no matter how many hours he spent studying, he would never be Dooku's equal, because Dooku would never allow him to be. Dooku had a craving to be the best, and he couldn't allow anyone to be his equal. That was why, in all his lessons, the man always held some kernel of wisdom back, so that the student could never outstrip the teacher.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan: When he had started out as Qui-Gon's Padawan, Obi-Wan had nursed a dream of one day becoming Qui-Gon's equal. However, by the time that his apprenticeship was nearing an end, he no longer had that goal, because he had recognized that as he learned more about being a Jedi, the gulf between him and his Master only seemed to widen rather than narrow. Even when he became a hero and a Council member during the Clone Wars long after Qui-Gon had been slaughtered on Naboo by that brutal Sith, Obi-Wan perceived himself as Qui-Gon's inferior. Somehow, though, this notion didn't trouble him as it might have once. As long as he did his best, it didn't matter if his best was better or worse than someone else's.

Obi-Wan and Anakin: Anakin liked to think that the Clone Wars had made him and Obi-Wan equals. After all, it had made both of them heroes and generals with the same responsibilities and burdens for the most part. Anakin even suspected that Obi-Wan would be the first to acknowledge with his typical graceful humility that they were now equals. However, Anakin himself still had trouble accepting that, no matter how many times as an apprentice he had complained that he was more talented than his Master and that Obi-Wan had been holding him back. He blamed the Council for his inability to truly see himself as Obi-Wan's equal, since they had stubbornly refused to grant him a seat on the Council even though he was as good as Obi-Wan. Yes, he constantly told himself, he and Obi-Wan were equals, but Anakin would always feel slighted and overlooked, whereas Obi-Wan would forever be convinced that he was unworthy of any acclaim that he received. They were equals, but they were not identical, and in many ways, they were mirror images of each other.

Anakin and Ahsoka: Ahsoka was well aware that it was every Master's ambition to train an apprentice that was equal to if not greater than the Master. On a while, she thought this was a noble objective, but she also recognized that there were times when it was doomed to failure. After all, Yoda must have instructed countless Padawans in his centuries as a Jedi, and yet none had ever become his equal. She sensed that things would be similiar with her and Anakin--he would try to teach her and she would learn as best she could, but she would never be his equal. She would never be the Chosen One, and, glancing at the haunted expression that sometimes clouded his eyes and the way that his shoulders sometimes hunched as though a galaxy he was unable to carry had been dumped on his shoulders, she couldn't even wish to be his equal. Studying under Anakin Skywalker had taught her that she should be grateful to be just Ahsoka Tano, since names like the Chosen One and the Hero with No Fear just crushed a person under unrealistic expectations.


	6. Chapter 6

Two of a Kind

**Dooku and Qui-Gon**: Choosing a Padawan, as far as Dooku was concerned, wasn't an easy process. It involved watching the initiates closely to figure out which of them had the strongest potential and which one was most likely to achieve great success as a Jedi, thereby enhancing their Master's prestige among the Jedi. In the end, after he had seen Qui-Gon Jinn win the student lightsaber tournament, he had chosen Qui-Gon, because the boy's strength, grace, and overall strategy were all most impressive. Indeed, if pressed, Dooku would have admitted that something in the way Qui-Gon carried himself reminded Dooku of himself. In short, then, Dooku, had selected Qui-Gon, because they were two of a kind, and over the years, when Qui-Gon's unconventionality and fierce independence reared their ugly heads, he would remind himself of that.

**Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan**: On the surface, Qui-Gon knew that he and Obi-Wan could hardly have appeared more different. He was comfortable with the Living Force, while Obi-Wan preferred the Unifying Force. Qui-Gon was unconventional; his apprentice a traditionalist. Qui-Gon was willing to bend or break the rules when he deemed it necessary, whereas Obi-Wan tended to go out of his way to follow them. Qui-Gon was intuitive, and Obi-Wan logical. Yet, on the inside, where character was really determined, Qui-Gon thought that they were the same. Both of them had a strong sense of right and wrong. Both of them wanted to do nothing more with their lives than serve others. Both of them had a stubborn streak three kilometers wide that allowed them to fight steadily on long after everyone else would have surrendered. They even had similar dry senses of humor. Yes, they were really two of a kind, and that was what made their relationship so wonderful.

**Obi-Wan and Anakin**: Most of the time, Obi-Wan didn't think of the similarities between him and Anakin. After all, the differences between them were far more striking. One would have to be blind to miss the contrast between Anakin's carefree nature and Obi-Wan's more serious one. Nobody could not spot the difference between Anakin's impetuosity and Obi-Wan's caution. The similarities were far easier to miss, since they were buried inside. Even Obi-Wan was prone to forgetting the similarities, but he could never forget the biggest one—that the engine that fueled both of them was nothing more than a determination not to fail. At heart, they really were two of a kind: nothing more than two galactic heroes who knew that no matter what they did, it would never be quite good enough.

**Anakin and Ahsoka**: As far as Anakin was concerned, having a Padawan was greatly overrated among the Jedi. There were times when Ahsoka did something particularly impulsive or said something particularly impertinent when he found himself wondering if the Council had foisted her on him just to drive him into committing suicide. In the next instant, he would know that they had assigned her to him because she was as scrappy, headstrong, and temperamental as he had been as an apprentice. Whenever he was confronted by her raised chin in an argument and had to squash the urge to strangle her, he would remind himself that he was only so aggravated with her because they were two of a kind, and that if he had turned out fine, she would, too.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: I apologize for the eternity it has taken me to update this fic. I've just been lazy and have lacked inspiration, I guess. Hopefully, you will enjoy this chapter, which should help me jump back into writing Star Wars stories. (By the way, the drabbles in this chapter are not going to involve any romantic or sexual relationships between teachers and students. I'm just writing these drabbles based on an expression.)

Strange Bedfellows

Dooku and Qui-Gon: Dooku often had cause to reflect on how mismatched a Master and Padawan pairing he and Qui-Gon were. Sometimes the two of them would seem so similar. Their intuitions would appear to flash along the same wavelength, and their strong wills would be set on the same goal. Then, just when Dooku was starting to think that he and his Padawan were well-matched, after all, Qui-Gon would go tearing off down some detour to save a scruffy space pilot, or, worse still, a filthy thief, with all the resolution he would display if it were an official mission from the Council. It was ridiculous and vexing, since it often meant that Dooku had to deal with Qui-Gon's motley collection of strays. As far as Dooku had discovered, putting up with his apprentice meant tolerating Qui-Gon's less savory friends, whose redeeming attributes were only visible to Qui-Gon Jinn. Yes, Dooku had selected Qui-Gon to be his Padawan after witnessing the young man's stunning performance in a lightsaber duel, and war always made strange bedfellows—in this case, Dooku, Qui-Gon, and Qui-Gon's scores of scum of the galaxy.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan: Qui-Gon hadn't wanted to take Obi-Wan as his apprentice. The young man reminded him too much of another promising Padawan from his past. Obi-Wan had the same raw potential and burning desire to learn that had driven Xanatos to destruction. He demonstrated the same dry sense of humor and fierce intelligence that Xanatos, so many years ago, had been renowned for as a student. Even the earnest expression blazing in Obi-Wan's bright eyes reminded Qui-Gon of Xanatos. Obi-Wan was a purer, stronger, and more loyal version of Xanatos, but the memory of Xanatos still shadowed both their minds. Qui-Gon had finally found the courage to accept Obi-Wan as his Padawan when Obi-Wan, on Bandomeer, was willing to suffer a fiery death for Qui-Gon's sake, and war always made strange bedfellows—in this case, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and the ghost of Xanatos who would never rest in peace.

Obi-Wan and Anakin: There were times when Obi-Wan felt like he didn't know Anakin, the person who was like a son and a brother to him, at all. Sometimes he would glance over his shoulder at Anakin, part of him expecting to see the eager nine-year-old he had first met when a war spanning the galaxy would have been nothing more than a nightmare, and instead he would see a strong, tall warrior in the place the boy should have occupied. Other times, an opaque expression would slide over Anakin's usually open features, and Obi-Wan would realize with a start that he only knew the basic outlines of the first nine years of his best friend's life. It was moments like that which made him remember that he had only taken Anakin as his Padawan because of a promise he had made to his own dying Master. War made strange bedfellows. That was how Obi-Wan, Anakin, the memory of Qui-Gon, and the ghost of slavery had managed to form an uneasy, ever-shifting alliance that could rupture without warning.

Anakin and Ashoka: Anakin hadn't wanted a Padawan. He would never, even under the worst torture the Confederacy could devise, but, in many ways, he still thought of himself as Obi-Wan's apprentice. He might chomp at the bit—because he had always done that, so he saw no reason to reform now that he was a Knight—but, in every manner that mattered, he still perceived Obi-Wan as his Master. Obi-Wan had been the one who had requested a Padawan, but the Council (in its perpetual effort to ruin Anakin's life as though enough enemy droids weren't trying to do that already) had foisted the youngling on Anakin instead. It wasn't that he disliked Ashoka. It was just the knowledge that he would not have her as an apprentice if it weren't for the Clone Wars that often made him think when he saw her display any of her quirky Torguta tendencies that war certainly made strange bedfellows—in this case, it resulted in the impulsive leading the impetuous, and possibly blowing up the whole universe in the process.


End file.
